


Fix Me

by kayladchristine



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23321602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayladchristine/pseuds/kayladchristine
Summary: Lovino has gone his entire life bottling up emotions, but what if he meets someone that finally understands him? (Rated M for darker themes in later chapters)
Relationships: South Italy/Spain (Hetalia)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

Long ago in human history, the concept of talking about your feelings to someone was taboo. Back then, talking about feelings was something that only women did. If men had issues, they took it to the field and killed innocents. Luckily in modern times, society is much more accepting to the idea of being more in touch with feelings. No longer is the only option to suck up all your emotions and repress them.

Lovino hated that he was in the waiting room at a psychiatrist's office. It was embarrassing enough that he admits defeat in trying to solve his issues on his own. It felt like another bullet in his heart that he was a guy. His acquaintances growing up led him to believe men were weak if they needed therapeutic help.

He scrolled through his phone, looking through pictures of celebrity gossip. Not that Lovino particularly cared for it; it just passed the time.

At long last his name was called by a voice younger than he expected. Lovino put his phone away and walked to come face-to-face with a man not much older than him.

When Lovino sat down in the office chair, the new psychiatrist introduced himself with a big, bright smile. "Hello, my name is Dr. Antonio Carriedo, but you can call me Antonio. I hear you seek my help. What brought you in today?"

Not feeling up for much talking, Lovino decided to keep this meeting brief and to the point. "I'm depressed."

"Why are you depressed?"

"Because I'm angry."

"Why are you angry?"

"Because I have a knack for bad things happening around me."

"Explain."

"Do I have to?"

Antonio paused typing on his computer and looked at Lovino through his glasses. "I can't fix what's broken if I don't see a problem."

"Does that mean I can go home?" Lovino asked hopefully, wanting to get this meeting over with.

Antonio smiled. "I don't think that's how this works."

Lovino inwardly cursed, resigning himself to his cruel fate. If he paid for this to happen, he might as well make the best of it.

"So you're angry," Antonio began. "Care to explain to me what that's about?"

Lovino sighed and chose to answer Antonio's question. "I dislike my brother. He always has this aura of being better than me because he's our grandfather's favorite. He's better than me at art, poetry, academics, he's more fashionable than me, and it just irritates me that he gets all the attention in the family."

"How do your parents treat him?"

"My parents died when I was in preschool and Feliciano, my brother, was only about a year old."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Lovino only hummed in acknowledgment. He had heard those same words a million times in his twenty-three years and hearing them from Antonio felt no different.

"Your brother, Feliciano, what's he like?"

"Annoying" was the first word out of Lovino's mouth. "He's always singing and flirting with everyone and he skips when he walks. He's very, how do I put it, sprightly?"

Antonio continued typing on his computer. "Your brother seems like a fun character."

"Maybe to you."

"And you say you live with your grandfather? How was life at home for you?"

Lovino shrugged. "He did his best raising two young boys, but I could tell it was wearing on him. He raised us primarily in his 70s and having to be at every concert, art show, homecoming, and competition took its toll on him. He always tried to play himself off as young and energetic, and Feliciano believed it, but I didn't."

"Do you love your grandfather?"

"I respect him. I wouldn't say I love him just yet, but I do see how he did what he could with what he had."

"I see," said Antonio, leaning back in his chair. "It sounds to me like you have some weight on your shoulders that no one has ever lifted. Perhaps you, yourself, have never tried. But the only way you can get rid of this emotional baggage is to talk to someone. You did the right thing, coming into my office. You've admitted to me that you pick up on things perhaps others don't. Lastly, I want to ask about you. What are your hobbies, goals, life plans?" He sat up straight in his chair.

"I like to garden. It seems to be the only thing I'm good at. I like to make desserts. My brother can make really good pasta dishes, but it's always up to me to make cannoli and gelato for the three of us. My grandfather showed me a family recipe when I was younger."

"Do you ever think highly of yourself?"

"Not really. Especially when it comes to girls, they always have gone after Feliciano rather than me. No girl likes a guy that gardens and bakes."

Antonio got quiet. "I know lots of people that would love a more domestic husband."

"What was that?" Lovino didn't quite catch what he had said.

"Nothing." Antonio cleared his throat. "So gardening and baking. Do you enjoy singing or painting like your brother?"

"I do, but I said that he's better at it."

"I never asked if he was better; I asked if you enjoy it. Just because you're not good or perhaps not  _ as good  _ as someone else doesn't mean you stop enjoying what you love. Take Josh Groban for instance. Is he as good as Andrea Bocelli or Luciano Pavarotti? No. Bocelli and Pavarotti are professionally trained, seasoned musicians that one has been in several operas throughout his time. Groban has a nice voice, and because he has a nice voice, he's been able to create an entire music career for himself, similarly to Bocelli and Pavarotti."

Lovino's head shot up. "You listen to Andrea Bocelli?"

"I do. Perhaps that's something we have in common?"

"I love Bocelli's music! When I'm alone, I like to sing along with some of his songs while listening through headphones. He has inspired me to be a better musician and better person. I owe a lot to him."

"That's good! We've found something you enjoy. Have you tried Pavarotti?"

Lovino shook his head. "My grandfather has vinyls of him though. Sometimes in the summer, I can smell the wind coming through our windows while my grandpa plays Pavarotti records in the afternoon. It makes me feel like I'm back in Italy when he does that."

"You lived in Italy?"

"For the first several years of my life. We moved here to America when I was seventeen."

Antonio wanted to ask, "How old are you now?"

"Twenty-three."

Antonio hummed in acknowledgment. "I learned a lot about you today, Lovino. I want to see you here again in a few weeks. You can work out the schedule with our receptionist."

So that was it. Lovino was ushered back to the receptionist desk by Antonio. When his next appointment was made, three weeks from today, Lovino headed to the train station to head home.


	2. Chapter 2

Upon arriving home, Lovino was greeted by the smell of fresh tomatoes coming from his garden. Sometimes he longed for a day that he could stay in his garden and surround himself with fresh vegetables and herbs. It made him feel at peace when he went out there. Realizing his reverie wouldn’t last forever, Lovino made his way inside.

“Lovino! You’re home!” said Grandpa as Lovino walked through to the kitchen. “Feliciano is upstairs playing some music and I’m making ravioli. Where have you been off to?”

“Nowhere,” said Lovino, not trying to get Grandpa suspicious. “I had an errand to run in town. Nothing too big.”

Grandpa didn’t say anything and instead handed him a bowl. “Make the filling for me, would you? You’ll find spinach and ricotta in the refrigerator.”

Lovino rolled up his sleeves and got to work on the other side of the kitchen, grabbing the ricotta and spinach on the way. When he was finished, he handed the bowl to Grandpa.

“Thank you, now go into the garden and get some tomatoes and herbs so Feliciano can make the sauce for dinner.”

Finally! The garden. Lovino’s absolute favorite place in the house that’s not even  _ in  _ the house. Putting a slight spring in his step, Lovino took the wicker basket from its spot next to the back door and headed back outside. The sun was setting over his left shoulder and cast a beautiful golden light on his tomato vines. Knowing the moment wouldn’t last too long, Lovino set his basket on the ground and began picking fresh tomatoes that he deemed perfectly ripe. He may have held a grudge against his brother, but his brother’s cooking relied on Lovino’s tomatoes and herbs. That was the only form of cooperation they had.

As it started getting dark, Lovino headed back inside with a basket full of tomatoes. He even grabbed some for himself to snack on later.

The evening ended for the men with watching an old Italian movie on their family room TV and heading to bed. Lovino was the last to leave the family room because he lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling and thinking about his first encounter with Antonio.

He thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if Antonio was right and talking to someone about his emotional issues will ultimately help Lovino. In reality, they really didn’t get very far into Lovino’s personal life. Of course, he had talked about disliking Feliciano, but he felt like that was common knowledge to everyone that knew him. Years ago in school, his classmates did their best to never bring up Feliciano in conversation anywhere around Lovino. It wasn’t like he could blame Feliciano for being the way he was. He definitely had their Grandpa’s flirtatious attitude and their mother’s way of cooking.

Lovino hadn’t thought of his parents in a long time. He didn’t have too many memories with them, but he remembered that tomatoes were his mother’s favorite thing to put in any dish. She would find ways to sneak tomatoes in every meal. She’s the reason Lovino had his beloved garden today.

From what he remembers of his father, he enjoyed going for afternoon drives around the cliffs of Southern Italy. Lovino still remembers his first view of the Adriatic from his car seat behind his father. He was small, sure, but he could still picture the beaches that lay beneath him. 

He missed his parents. As anyone would, Lovino always said that he wished he had gotten more time with them before they died just after Feliciano was born. He still remembers the police talking to him and calling Grandpa and holding Feliciano while they both cried. Lovino still had a major scar from the incident, and he’s fairly certain the scar right above his brother’s nose is from that time, as well.

Not realizing it and without turning the lamp off, Lovino drifted to sleep. In his dream he saw someone that looked like Antonio coming toward him. Antonio was smiling but his smile turned sour all of the sudden. As much as Lovino didn’t know him very well, he didn’t want to see Antonio angry or upset at him. He could feel himself trying to run toward Antonio but whenever he got there, Antonio turned his back to Lovino. It hurt somehow, and Lovino felt himself jolt awake.

When he got his bearings, he realized he was still in the family room with the lamp on. The darkness outside suggested very late hours in the night, so Lovino turned off the lamp and headed upstairs to properly go to bed.

The next morning at work, Lovino had a hard time staying focused. He was supposed to be organizing the books alphabetically, but no matter what, he couldn’t take his mind off of Antonio. He couldn’t figure out why, either. That part annoyed him the most. Antonio was just his doctor. That he barely knew. Yet desperately needed.

“Lovino,” he heard someone call him. “Where are you?”

He set down the few books he was holding. “I’m over in the third aisle.”

A second later his coworker peeked around the corner, looking to give him news. “There you are. I’ve looked for you everywhere.”

“This isn’t exactly a large library, and I’ve only been in one spot. I was put in charge of reshelving the adult fiction books.”

“Well change of plans: our boss wants you to go sort through the donation piles and see what we can put out on our shelves. I’ll handle the rest of these.”

Lovino really hated when his boss did that. He liked working alone, dang it. Why couldn’t anyone accommodate his wishes? Fortunately, sorting through donations was only for a few minutes and only with one other person. It wouldn’t take them long to finish.

The following days went on for Lovino the same as usual: work, garden, dinner, family time, occasionally church, and occasionally the grocery store if neither Grandpa nor Feliciano felt like cooking.

Three weeks passed quickly and soon it was time to see Antonio again. Lovino was a little happier sitting in the waiting room this time, knowing that he wasn't new and awkward.

But his feeling of happiness changed when he saw Antonio. He knew that seeing Antonio meant there was something wrong with him; something that couldn't be fixed.

Antonio called Lovino back to the office and Lovino followed. When they sat down, Antonio began.

"I want you to tell me three things: something fun that happened this week, a weird fact about you, and then you can tell me how you feel. Go."

Lovino had to think for a second. Antonio was at his computer, ready to type at a moment's notice. "Something fun?" Lovino hummed. "I learned a new song this week. It's called Mi Mancherai."

"Sounds pretty."

"It is."

"Weird fact about you?"

"Once, when I was six, my brother and I were playing in the street in front of our house and I accidentally kicked our football into the neighbor's bushes. Turns out it hit an ant pile and scattered ants everywhere. I ended up causing an infestation."

"They should've taken care of those ants before then."

"I know!"

Antonio looked at Lovino squarely. "Now how do you feel after telling me all this?"

Lovino took a breath. "I feel better. Happier, even."

"Did you feel the same way after you left my office last time?"

"For a while, I suppose."

"How long is a while?"

"A few days, I guess."

"Interesting," said Antonio. "I could be mistaken, and correct me if I'm wrong, my theory may be true that issues get better by just talking about them. Last session, you told me about your brother. Are there any secrets you share with him?"

"There used to be, but then he became too much of a chatterbox for me to trust him. He'll talk so fast that you can't understand him, but you can sometimes catch a few points that he says."

Antonio stopped typing for a moment. "You say you're twenty-three now. When you were in school, what was school like?"

"People caught on quickly that I didn't like my brother. It created a rift between us at home, but I didn't care. I was questioned by my grandfather about it but I never gave him a clear answer. Only simply that things at school were fine and my grades were okay."

"Were they?"

Lovino sighed. "No, not really. The hatred I showed toward my brother began to wear on me and it affected my grades. I want to be able to forgive Feliciano, I really do, but I don't think I'll ever be able to as long as I live at home."

"You could move out," Antonio suggested.

Lovino shook his head. "Grandpa doesn't want either of us to move out until we get married. Since I have no luck finding a girlfriend, I doubt I ever will."

"Never say never, my friend."

Their session continued just like the first with Lovino answering all of Antonio's questions the best he could. When Antonio had asked all of the questions he had, he ushered Lovino back out to the receptionist desk again and said goodbye.

Before Lovino headed home, he spent a few more minutes in town, enjoying his solitude away from the noise that is his Grandpa and Feliciano. The city wasn't much better, but the city helped drown out the thoughts he had about his recent therapy sessions. Mainly, how old was Antonio? He couldn't be any more than his mid-twenties at most. No matter how much he tried, Lovino couldn't get Antonio out of his head.

He was so distracted that he didn't realize he had run into someone, literally. When he caught his bearings, Lovino saw that he had run into a tall blond man with biceps the size of Lovino's head.

"You should be more careful. I could have been a car and you'd be in a lot more pain."

Lovino nodded. "You're right. Thank you."

After a long train ride back out of the city, Lovino headed straight to his garden to tend to a few issues before popping a cherry tomato in his mouth and heading inside the house.

"How was therapy?"

He froze. No one knew he went to therapy. How did Feliciano find out? His first instinct was to deny it. "I don't go to therapy."

"Psychiatry?"

"Maybe. Look, what does it matter if I go to a psychiatrist? Maybe I'm able to tell them something I can't tell you or Grandpa."

Feliciano stood up from the couch and faced him. "You don't trust us?" He looked hurt.

Lovino hated to see his brother sad. Usually because it meant Feliciano would get his own way. "I don't think you're ready for the information I have to give. When I feel ready to tell you, I will, okay? Just, let me work out my personal issues first with my psychiatrist."

That answer seemed to pacify Feliciano because he smiled and hugged Lovino.

"Don't hug me."

Feliciano quickly stepped away. "Sorry, I forgot you don't like hugs."

It's not that Lovino didn't  _ like  _ hugs. He just had never been hugged by anyone particularly special. He was actually quite touch-starved. He longed for someone to hug him and cuddle with him, but he knew that day would never come.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

One morning when Lovino came downstairs, his Grandpa told him to run into town after breakfast to pick up some groceries. Lovino was given instructions to get anything he needed as well as some ingredients for dinner in the upcoming days.

When he left for the city, Lovino was disappointed that his ditzy brother was going with him. Lovino immediately wanted to send Feliciano off to find his own groceries.

He handed Feliciano the list upon entering the store. "Here's a list of the things Grandpa told us to get. I will send you off to get started on these, while I go to get some bathroom stuff I need."

Feliciano smiled and headed off with the list, happy to be put to use.

Lovino headed toward the other side of the store to the shampoo aisle. He quickly found the shampoo he needed, but stopped before grabbing the bottle. He heard someone talking the next aisle over that sounded suspiciously like Antonio, except the person was speaking rapidly in another language. Is that Spanish? Lovino could pick out some words since they were similar to Italian, but not everything. 

When the person hung up the phone, Lovino let his curiosity get the better of him and he walked toward the voice. The man looked like Antonio, but there was no way Antonio lived all the way out here.

"Antonio?" The name slipped out before Lovino could catch it. He put his hand to his mouth in a childish manner.

The man that appeared to be Antonio turned around and spotted Lovino. "Lovino? What are you doing here?"

"This is a grocery store." Lovino said bluntly. "I came to get groceries. But more importantly, I'm out of shampoo."

Antonio smiled. "Shampoo is the next aisle over."

"I know that. But I heard your voice and had to see if it was you. Are you Hispanic?"

"No, I'm Spanish. My parents are from a small town in Spain and I did my residency in Barcelona. My sister was the one that called me."

"But how do you hide your Spanish accent?"

"I don't have one. When I speak in Spanish to my family, they always say I have an American accent."

Saying Antonio didn't have a Spanish accent was a lie. Lovino could hear it as clear as day. "Do you live on this side of town?"

"I do!" Antonio said cheerfully. "My office location is the only place anyone would rent to me for a cheaper price and even though I make good money as a psychiatrist, that building rent is not cheap."

"That's unfortunate," Lovino mumbled.

"Are you here with anyone?"

"My brother, but he's in another part of the store. I don't know where he went." 

"Perhaps I could help you find him?"

Lovino shook his head. "No thank you. I'm sure I'll find him. If not, he knows his way home. I think."

"Well if he doesn't, call me."

"You're outside of your office, and I don't have your number."

Antonio pulled out a receipt and pen from his jacket pockets and scribbled something on the back. "Now you can no longer say you don't have my number."

Lovino tried to stop him. "Do you think it's okay for me to have this? I'm your patient. I thought any relationships between patient and doctor that weren't in a patient and doctor setting were illegal?"

Antonio seemed to take a step back after that. "Then throw it away. It's up to you, now."

Lovino hated being given decisions to make like this. He had already seen the paper. The numbers were etching themselves into his memory the more he looked at it or Antonio. He hated it. "I'll never call you."

"That's up to you. If you do, I will answer."

"What about texting? Do you text?"

"I'm twenty-five, Lovino. Yes, I text." Antonio laughed.

Twenty-five.  _ Twenty-five.  _ Lovino couldn't believe it. "Aren't you a little young to be a doctor?"

"I was able to do accelerated courses, which meant I graduated way ahead of my peers. I finished my residency just a year ago, and I moved here only a few months ago. Something told me I would find what I was looking for if I moved back to America."

"Well, what are you looking for?"

Antonio sighed and looked up at the other mouthwashes on the shelves above him. "I'm not sure yet. Perhaps love? It sounds cheesy, I know. Moving across the ocean to find something you've never tried looking for. It's like the story of a drama." He turned back to Lovino after grabbing a bottle in front of him. "Why did you move to America?"

"I didn't like Italy anymore. It held too many bad memories, like my parents dying. I wanted to put my past behind me, so I begged my grandfather to move us to America, and we settled here. We were able to buy a house with a trust fund Grandpa had here. I know Feliciano misses Italy and I want to be able to take him back because I know he doesn't remember our parents dying. It's just, hard, you know?"

"I think one day you'll be able to send him to Italy once again. Who knows? Maybe he'll find something in Italy just like I'll find something here."

Lovino scoffed at him. "You don't know if you'll find someone here. You're just a dreamer."

Antonio laughed. "Maybe I am, but right now I need to go buy this mouthwash and run some more errands. When is your next appointment?"

"Next week, I think."

"I'll see you then!" Antonio waved goodbye and walked out of the aisle.

"Who was that?"

"OH MY GOD!" Lovino jumped out of his skin. "How long have you been standing there?"

Feliciano shrugged innocently. "I don't know, a few minutes, maybe? I finished the grocery shopping and went around to find you. I couldn't find you in the grocery section so I came over here. Then I heard you talking and I decided to spy on you." He paused. "Who is Antonio?"

"None of your concern. Now let's go home."

Lovino started walking the other way when Feliciano stopped him.

"Lovino."

"What?"

"You still don't have your shampoo."

"How did- you know what? Never mind. Let's just get it and go."


	4. Chapter 4

Later that afternoon, Lovino sat outside on the back patio, basking in the early summer sun. He had acoustic guitar music playing from his phone on the table next to him. Although it was hot, Lovino loved sunbathing on days like this. He had no work for the day, he had already tended to his garden, and Feliciano and Grandpa had gone off to run a few more errands. It felt just like-

Italy. Lovino caught himself before his mind went down that path. He knew that once he began thinking of Italy, it wasn't long before the disturbing images of his parents would creep in. It was the one thing he could never bring himself to tell Grandpa. His Grandpa had lived a great life, and Lovino didn't want his grandfather's last memory of him to be of Lovino depressed over something that happened nearly twenty years ago.

The instance bothered Lovino enough that he brought it up to Antonio during his next appointment. "Antonio, I need to talk."

"I'm here to listen."

"Please don't take notes; it'll distract me from my train of thought."

"Can I take them on pen and paper?"

"You know what, sure. Just no clicking."

Antonio picked out a notebook from his desk and set it in front of him, picking up a pen as well. "The floor is yours," he said quietly.

Lovino steadied his breath against the hammering in his heart and the racing thoughts in his mind. "I need to tell you how my parents died."

Silence filled the room. Lovino took it as a sign to keep going. "Back in Italy, when I was a child, my dad liked to take the family on these road trips around the cliffs in the southern end. One weekend, he decided to take us on a trip after picking me up from preschool. Well I had made an art project that day that I was really proud of and wanted to show my parents. I pulled it out of my bag and handed it to my mom-my dad was driving-and she handed it to my dad for him to see. All I wanted was for them to be proud of me, even just for a moment, but--" Lovino left the thought hanging in the air.

After a moment, Antonio asked carefully, "Lovino, what happened that day?"

Lovino's voice got shaky. "My dad took the picture, which took his eyes off the road. We were going too fast and there was a sharp turn coming up. My dad didn't slow down fast enough to save us. We ran through the guardrail, straight down the side of the cliff." His breath hitched. "Our car went hood first toward the rocky earth below, but before I could blink, the car hit the rocks, the airbags popped out, and the car was suddenly quiet.

"I had a ringing in my ear upon first waking up, still in my car seat. I tried talking to my parents and neither of them answered. I unbuckled with some difficulty and shook their shoulders, both of them slumping over before me, which caused me to scream. Feliciano woke up crying, and honestly, I had felt like doing the same. I had just watched my parents die because of my stupid 4 year old art project. I've never forgiven myself since.

"A few minutes passed and the police arrived on-scene, prying my brother and me from the back seats. When they saw that we were both very small and crying, they gave us blankets and had us sit in the police car. I did my best to comfort Feliciano, but nothing I said would console him. A policewoman came to my window and asked me if we had any family around that could help us. I told her about my Grandpa, but he lived a long way away. I had little hope that he would show up. 

"After that, we were driven to the children's hospital to get checked up for any wounds. I didn't realize it until that moment, but my shoulder was hurting really badly. When they assessed the situation, they found that shrapnel had lodged itself into my right shoulder, just below the collarbone. Feliciano was put to sleep so they could extract a piece of glass from the top of his nose. The hospital put out a news article about us, looking for our grandfather, and it actually worked. Grandpa showed up the next morning with fresh clothes and took us from the hospital when we were released. 

"He paid for our parents to be buried and we moved in with him. He's taken care of us ever since. Feliciano, of course, doesn't remember the incident, but he has asked me before why there's a scar on his nose."

When Lovino finished talking, Antonio quietly asked, "Do you feel any better having talked about it?"

To be honest, Lovino didn't. If anything it made him feel worse, openly admitting that he killed his parents. "I don't know," was all he could say.

"Telling this to me is perhaps a gateway for you, but I'm not the one you need to be telling this to. You know this, I'm sure. I don't know when you'll be ready, but you need to tell your family what happened. Your brother deserves to know. You have all the answers Feliciano is looking for, and you're the only one."

Lovino scoffed. "That doesn't make me feel any bit better."

"But it's the truth, and you know it is. Unfortunately, a doctor's job isn't to give people false information, even if it would ease their situation. When you get home, find a quiet time where you can have your brother's full attention and tell him what happened. If you can, get your grandfather in the room, too."

Lovino went away from the session with a heavy heart, now focused on his brother. This will be one time when Feliciano would be sad and not as a ploy to get his own way.

When he came into the house, he heard Grandpa and Feliciano talking about something in the living room. Lovino was too distraught to bother listening in. Instead, he knocked on the wall next to them to catch their attention.

Feliciano was the first to notice him. "Lovino! How was your appointment?"

Lovino set his jaw as a way to force himself to not cry. "Feliciano, Grandpa, I need to talk to you."

"Lovino, you don't look too well." Grandpa stood up and ushered him to an armchair. "Here, sit down and I'll go get us some water." He had a feeling this would be a long chat.

Sitting down and sipping some water, Lovino began recounting that moment in history when his world changed forever. "Feliciano, do you ever wonder how you got that mark at the top of your nose?"

"Yeah, you have always said it's a birthmark."

"I'm sorry, but that was a lie. It's actually a scar you got from a car accident when we were both very little."

"Are you telling that story now," Grandpa asked, on the edge of his seat.

Lovino nodded and the room fell quiet. 

The story was told exactly as he said it to Antonio, including the detail about the picture. Lovino started to blame himself for what happened but his Grandpa stopped him.

"You don't need to apologize for this. It was your dad's fault for taking his eyes off of the road and driving too fast. This has nothing to do with you."

"But I can't stop feeling like this was somehow my fault."

"I can assure you, it wasn't. I knew your father really well and I can tell you that he liked drinking wine a little too much and it affected his driving. I can almost guarantee you that he had drunk one glass too many and decided to take you on a road trip. His slight alcoholism is why he was driving too fast. Don't tear yourself up over something that was never your fault."

Hearing the words from his grandfather that this incident wasn't his fault caused Lovino to break down. "I've let this eat away at me my whole life, and now you say it isn't my fault? How am I supposed to believe you?"

"Lovino, your father was my son. I had given him his first taste of wine at sixteen and watched him spiral ever since. If anyone is at fault here, it's me for a decision I made long before you were born."

But twenty years of self-loathing wouldn't disappear in an instant. "I'll have to think about what you said. The issue still hurts, no matter what."

Feliciano, on the other side of the room, had been crying the whole time. "I wish you would have told me sooner." He rubbed at his eyes furiously. "Is this why we moved away from Italy?"

Lovino got solemn. "It is. I couldn't live with the feeling of everyone around me knowing I'm the boy that killed his parents. I couldn't live knowing that the street our parents died on was never fully repaired. Italy left too many emotional scars on me so I begged Grandpa to move us away."

"We could've moved to the North! We could have lived in Venezia and put our past behind us in the South! I moved away from everyone I had ever loved."

"Your life would have changed in Venezia, too! That's still a thousand kilometers away from everyone."

"It's less than an entire ocean!"

"Boys!" Grandpa interrupted them. "What's done is done. Our time in Italy is behind us. All Lovino wanted to do was explain to you what happened. There's no reason to get angry, Feliciano."

Feliciano, normally the overly happy one, furrowed his eyebrows in anger. "I've forgiven many things from you, brother, but keeping our biggest family secret from me is not one of those things." He bolted up and walked toward the door. "Don't try to follow me."

Lovino tried calling after Feliciano, but the younger brother had already closed the door and was long gone when Lovino caught up to him. "He couldn't have gone far," he told his grandfather. "I'll go find him."

"Lovino, wait. You're being too brash about this. Calm down and let's think this through. Feliciano knows his way around town and will be okay. If he runs into trouble, he has his wallet and phone and knows to call us. He'll be okay."

Lovino could only hope his grandfather was right.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you that have been following and reading this story, I thank you, but I need to warn you. This story will start getting a lot darker from this point, forward. I rated this story M because I knew there would be heavy themes and actions later, including death, depression, and suicidal thoughts and attempts. If you are uncomfortable with any of these subjects, please do not read any further than Chapter 4. I appreciate your support up to this point.
> 
> If you choose to proceed, you have been warned.

Feliciano was missing.

When Lovino had told him the truth, it was only mid-afternoon. By now it was starting to get dark and his brother had never returned. Lovino tried calling him, but the call went immediately to voicemail. "He's not answering his phone at all. He has to be out there still. What if something had happened to him?"

"Lovino, calm down." His grandfather was standing in the kitchen with Lovino in a barstool. "I'm sure Feliciano is okay. If something had happened to him, we would find out."

Though he hadn't been paying attention to it, the local news channel playing on the TV behind him began playing a live feed of a street in the middle of town that showed a young man on a gurney being rolled into an ambulance. “Chardenier Street has been shut down because a young man got hit by a car when trying to cross the street. He is being taken to St. Vincent’s nearby. Paramedics are doing all they can while on the scene.”

Lovino’s blood turned cold.  _ Please God don’t let it be Feliciano.  _

“Here is a photo I.D. of the young man.”

The blood drained from Grandpa’s face. “Lovino.”

His heart fell to his stomach.  _ Oh no.  _

“Get in the car.” Grandpa grabbed his keys off of the hook by the front door and ran outside, barely sparing any time to turn off the lights or lock the house. The two men sped down the highway as fast as Grandpa could drive into town. Fortunately, the emergency wing of the hospital had open parking so Grandpa sloppily parked and they both ran inside.

“What brings you in today,” a young woman at the door asked Lovino.

Not wasting any time, Lovino hurriedly said to her, “My brother, Feliciano Vargas was brought here a few minutes ago. I need to see him.” He pulled out his license. “I’m Lovino.”

The young woman looked at Grandpa and asked, “May I see your I.D., sir?”

Grandpa handed his license over as well and the woman looked at both before handing them back and telling them to follow her.

The emergency wing was a total maze and Lovino was secretly glad he had the woman with them. She practically ran through the wing, searching for Feliciano’s room. She stopped at one sign and Lovino whipped the curtain out of his way. “Feliciano!”

Feliciano was laying down, hooked up to a breathing machine and bandaged around his chest, possibly with broken ribs. He woke up when he heard his name called. “Hey Lovino. I guess I should have called you. I was fine until about ten minutes ago.”

“Forget that! What happened to you? Where did you go? I have so many questions and-”

“Lovino,” Feliciano stopped him. “Don’t worry about what happened. I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m still alive, breathing, happy. But you don’t look happy. All your life I’ve only ever seen you frown. You should smile more. People like it when you smile at them.”

“Feliciano,” Lovino felt a hot tear roll down his cheek. “You’re not dying on me. Please. I can’t lose you, too.”

Feliciano reached his hand up to touch his brother, and Lovino allowed his hair and face to be touched. “You look so much like Mom, you know that? She would have loved the person you became. How you grew a garden in her memory, or learned Spanish because her family was half-Spanish and you wanted to impress our aunt. She would be proud of you, Lovino. Please remember that.”

Lovino heard the heart monitor slow its beeping.

“Please, Lovino, don’t blame yourself for my death. I want you to stay happy, even if I never see it. The key to living a long life is to remain bright and optimistic, just like I always was. I lived a comfortable twenty years: I always had you and Grandpa when things got hard. It was us three against the world. I would never trade this life for another.” Feliciano closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Hey Lovino?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.” And the heart monitor stopped beeping.

Lovino took a few deep breaths before whispering, “I love you, too.” With tear-stained cheeks, he kissed Feliciano on the top of his head, and pressed their foreheads together, letting the tears fall as they would. Just as he did that day as a child, Lovino held his younger brother’s body, and wept.


	6. Chapter 6

The worst part about losing a loved one is having to go back home afterward. Home is where you always saw the person, always felt their love, and knew that they would always return. Feliciano, however, would not be returning.

As Lovino walked back into the house, he could swear he smelt Feliciano's tomato sauce from the front door. The memory of his brother always cooking stung Lovino's heart. Feliciano had picked up cooking when he was still very little. At first it was simple things, like properly cooking pasta. Before long he was already making fresh ravioli from scratch. Oh, what Lovino would give to have Feliciano's home-cooked food right now.

He saw his brother's recent book in the sunroom by the back door. Feliciano liked to read and he often read while Lovino was out in the garden. He never realized it until now, but Lovino supposed that it was Feliciano's way of them staying close together.

Feliciano's jacket was still strewn across the back of the couch, untouched and wrinkled. Lovino picked it up and sniffed it, finding it to flood his senses until all he thought about was Feliciano. Before he knew it, Lovino was crying into the soft fabric of the jacket.

Grandpa noticed Lovino's shoulders shake in sobs and walked over. He turned Lovino to him and held him close. "I know."

"He never heard me tell him that I loved him."

"Lovino, he knew you loved him. He saw your love for him every time you got him fresh tomatoes, or watched TV with him. What he wanted was not to hear that you loved  _ him,  _ but that you love  _ yourself.  _ This is what he meant in his last words, 'stay happy'."

It hurt his heart more to hear his grandfather repeat Feliciano's last words. How can Lovino stay happy if there was never a happy moment? "I miss him already."

"I know you do. It's going to take time for all of this to heal. It won't be the same having just the two of us. Our house will be quiet without him."

Eerily quiet. Lovino couldn't stand that Feliciano wasn't there, making some kind of noise. No longer would the sound of Frank Sinatra fill Lovino with happiness and peace. It would, instead, fill him with dread and longing.

Setting the jacket down and wiping his eyes, Lovino headed upstairs. He reached Feliciano's room and looked around. His brother had always been the type for lots of collections and little room to put everything. His room was overrun by succulents, sketchbooks, clothes, pillows, and stickers. Lovino wondered how Feliciano ever found anything amidst this chaos. Thinking it best to leave the room alone, Lovino closed the bedroom door.

Saying goodnight to his grandfather, Lovino walked down the hall into his own room. He couldn't bring himself to change much out of his clothes, so he took off his jeans and climbed in bed in just a shirt and boxers.

The only issue was that Lovino couldn't sleep that night. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get the sound of Feliciano's rasping voice out of his head. The images still flooded his memory every time he closed his eyes: images of Feliciano smiling, cooking dinner, reading inside the house while Lovino saw him from outside. They all haunted Lovino.

But what hurt him the most is Feliciano's line, "Your whole life, I've only ever seen you frown." Lovino never showed him enough love. He had only ever shown his brother bitterness and hatred. Lovino wanted Feliciano back so he could properly love his baby brother.

Not feeling tired enough to sleep, Lovino trudged his way back downstairs and out to his garden. If ever he'd be able to think clearly, it was here. He filled his lungs with the open air. Something about being outside gave him peace. He sat down against the house and looked up. The stars were beautiful tonight and the moon shone brighter than usual. Lovino felt like it was Feliciano up there, watching him from afar.

Lovino began talking out his feelings, not letting anything bottle up. He talked to seemingly no one about his memories of Feliciano from their time in Italy, little quirks about Feliciano, and some of Feliciano's favorite songs. It felt right to get this all out and off of his chest, even if he's the only one that heard.

He had no tears left within him. He was exhausted, thirsty, and empty. Lovino didn't feel like crying anymore. What was the point? People around him would only allow him to grieve for a short time. After that, he'd still have to go to work, he still needed to go to church, he still had his appointments with Antonio-

Lovino had been so caught up in his emotions that he never thought about Antonio. But what was the point? It wasn't like Antonio had even met Feliciano. He had an appointment in a few weeks; he could just wait until then.

But did he really want to wait two more weeks to talk to someone about what happened? At the same time, did he also want to call someone at two in the morning? Other doubts ran through Lovino's head before he made his final decision: he was going to call Antonio and hope he was awake.

The dial tone went a few times before Lovino heard someone pick up on the other end. "Hello?"

Lovino inwardly gasped at the voice coming through. It sounded...melodic. "Antonio? This is Lovino."

There was some shuffling on the other end and one could only assume Antonio was sitting upright in bed. "Lovino? What caused you to call me?"

Lovino paused before saying quietly, "Feliciano died tonight."

Antonio was quiet for a long moment. "Wow. That-hmm. That's hard to process. Wait, was your brother the one out tonight that got hit by the car?"

"Thanks for reminding me," Lovino said sarcastically.

"I can tell you what happened. I watched everything from a cafe across the street."

Hearing that someone had honest answers was a thrill to Lovino. "Tell me. I'm ready to hear."

Antonio began telling the story as he recalled it. "I had seen Feliciano walking down the block, looking a little upset. I had a feeling I knew why he was upset with what you had told me yesterday. Anyway, I saw him come to the crosswalk in front of me and look both ways before crossing. When he saw that he was clear, he began to cross. However, a car came speeding down the road right toward Feliciano and ran the red light, hitting Feliciano in the process.

"At that point, I called nine-one-one and got paramedics out to the scene as fast as I could. No one else had seen the incident, so I ran outside and did everything I could to help him. I have a basic amount of medical knowledge. When the paramedics arrived, I stood off to the side and let them work, and it wasn't long before the police showed up and blocked off the road.

"Since I didn't personally know him, I never visited the hospital. I instead slowly made my way home, with something of a nagging feeling in the back of my head. May I ask what happened after that?"

Lovino had to focus himself on the present and not to the images of an incident that he was never a part of. "Grandpa and I raced to the hospital and saw him immediately. He laid his hand on my head and began saying his goodbyes. He said he had lived a good life and that he would never have traded it for the world."

"Do you know what he officially died from?" Antonio said softly.

"The doctor said broken ribs and internal bleeding. I suppose there isn't much that could be done about either one?"

"Not really. I don't have the expertise like a medical doctor, but if a person has internal bleeding, there's not much they can do without it costing thousands of dollars. And even if Feliciano had been saved, he still would have lived the next several months in severe pain. Is that what you wanted for your brother?"

Lovino felt another tear roll down his cheek. "No," he admitted. To tell the truth, he never wanted any harm to come to his brother. Feliciano was the sweetest, happiest person Lovino had ever met. It was unfair that this happened to Feliciano and not someone else.

"Hey Lovino?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know if you're religious, but don't get angry at God for this. God has a reason he took Feliciano away from you, and one day you'll see what that is. Just like Romans says: everything will be okay."

"I don't need a Bible lesson, Antonio."

"Perhaps not, but you do need hope." Antonio sighed through the phone. "Go to bed, Lovino. You've had a long night and this grieving process won't get any easier."

Before Lovino hung up, he caught Antonio. "Antonio-"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Antonio sounded hurt as he said his next line. "I'm only doing my job, Lovino."

But Lovino had a feeling it was more than just him being nice or because it was his job. Lovino could tell it was more when Antonio answered at two thirty in the morning and decided to chat. He couldn't tell what it was yet, but he felt like he would find out soon enough.


	7. Chapter 7

The day came for burying Feliciano and Lovino didn't have the physical or emotional strength to get out of bed. He hadn't eaten in days and he could barely hold down any water.

He heard a light knocking on his bedroom door of Grandpa telling him it was time to get up and head to the church. It was a simple request, but it seemed like a lot to Lovino. Even just existing was a burden.

Lovino dragged himself out of bed and went to the bathroom. He took one long look at his appearance and squinted. He looked awful. He was paler than usual, having not gone out to his garden much recently. His cheekbones were sunken in from him having not eaten. Lovino was disgusted by himself.

He got dressed quickly into his Sunday best and headed downstairs. 

His grandfather stopped him. "Lovino, I know it's hard, but you look like you're going to faint. Can you please just eat a banana so you don't look sick?"

Lovino didn't want to, but he figured having something in his stomach would keep him from throwing up. That would be unseemly of him.

The two men were the first to arrive at the funeral home for the viewing. Lovino didn't want to be anywhere near the body. For one thing, dead bodies creeped him out. For another thing, the body that resides in front of him was supposed to be the comforter, not the spectacle.

All kinds of people showed up and greeted Lovino and met Grandpa for the first time. There were people from Lovino's church, Feliciano's co-workers, some neighbors that Feliciano had acquainted himself with, among others.

When it was time for the family to have one last moment with the body, Lovino spotted a straggler in the viewing room. "Antonio?"

The smile that was normally present on Antonio's face was replaced by a frown. "Hey Lovino. I was just thinking about Feliciano. Even though I never truly met him, I feel like he was a good young man." He sighed. "So this is it, I guess. Time for me to go into the service and join the others."

"Stay." Lovino told him.

Antonio stopped. "I'm sorry?"

Lovino took a breath and looked at him. "You're the only one that knows what happened. You were the only witness to the incident. Also," he paused. "I need you. Please, I have no one else."

Antonio half-smiled. "I'd be glad to join you, Lovino. Mind if I join you in the service as well?"

Lovino nodded.

The service was short but not without a few people giving stories about all the fun Feliciano had in his short but abundant life. Everyone that knew him knew that Feliciano always had a smile, even when the darkest days could get no darker. Lovino had opted out of speaking for fear that he'd break down in front of a crowd.

The graveside service was simply Grandpa, Lovino, and Antonio, the latter only for emotional support. Lovino had said his last words to Feliciano that night he passed, but now it was really hitting him: Feliciano was dead.

Grandpa was stoic through the entire thing, but he had a deep sadness in his eyes. Feliciano was too young. He felt it should have been him who died with his ripe old age. He had wanted the two boys to live a long and happy life, but Feliciano's was suddenly cut short.

"Riposi in pace, fratello." Lovino's dream of one day sending Feliciano back to Italy was now shot. Never again would Feliciano see the rolling hills, steep cliffs, or red tiled roofs. He would never see the beauty that is Venice with the clearwater canals. It made Lovino's heart hurt.

A few days later Lovino had another appointment with Antonio. When he walked in, Antonio first asked, ""How are you?"

Under normal circumstances the question would be very flippant. People ask that question all the time without much of a care about how someone really is. But not Antonio, and not right now.

"I'm...okay." Lovino couldn't lie to Antonio. Not like this.

"You look sick. Have you been eating properly?"

Lovino had no choice but to shake his head. "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?" And what is?"

"Do you like me? Like, as more than a patient?"

The question caught Antonio off-guard and Lovino was worried he'd crossed a line. Finally Antonio said sadly, "I do like you, but we can't have any kind of relationship because you're my patient."

"I don't think regular doctors talk their patients through a crisis at two in the morning."

"Though you're right, a relationship outside of work wouldn't work for us."

Lovino was heartbroken, but then he got an idea. "What if I stop seeing you as a patient?"

"What?"

"I could make an appointment, cancel it a week later, and then be scot-free! It could work!"

" _ Could.  _ Doesn't mean it's going to. And besides, you need a psychiatrist now more than ever. Your feeling of loneliness won't suddenly go away because you have a boyfriend. That's not how mental illness works."

"But if I stop being your patient, we could see each other for more than just thirty minutes every month."

"Stop trying to worm your way into dating me, Lovino. I'm flattered, truly, that you like me, but I can't date you."

Lovino's heart was shot. "Well whether we date or not, I don't want to keep seeing you as my psychiatrist. I'm okay on my own."

"Look at yourself, Lovino. You clearly need my help. You haven't slept in a few weeks, you've barely eaten anything since Feliciano died, you're shaky, and you're not thinking straight. Under different circumstances, I would accept your proposal, but not when you are physically and mentally unhealthy. Now, whether you choose to come back after you walk through that door is up to you. I cannot force you to come back."

Thinking he was in his right mind, Lovino turned bitter. "Then fine," he stood up. "I don't plan on coming back, anyway." 

And with those words, he walked out of the office and never returned.


	8. Chapter 8

Was Lovino being selfish for walking out on someone because they rejected his advances on them? Yes. Was Lovino stupid enough to walk out of a psychiatrist meeting? Also yes.

As Lovino lay on his bed, he let his mind wander. First it was to things like his garden and how Feliciano said he built it in their mom's memory. Then it went to his memories of Feliciano, both alive and not. But he didn't want his thoughts to end there, so Lovino let his mind escape him and ended up thinking about Antonio.

Antonio's green eyes always seemed to sparkle whenever Lovino saw them. They were a darker green than Lovino's own, but it didn't make them any less pretty.

His thoughts were overwhelmed by how Antonio would speak. Lovino could be carried away on Antonio's beautiful Spanish accent. It made him think of the guitar music he'd hear in the streets of his town in Italy.

No matter what had happened, Lovino wanted Antonio. He wanted to know his past, his family, and be a part of his future. Lovino wanted Antonio to serenade him with guitar chords on lazy Sunday afternoons. He wanted Antonio to cook Spanish food for him, and speak to him in Spanish when they laid in bed together.

His heart ached for Antonio, so badly that with everything that's happened recently, including the rejection from Antonio, Lovino found himself crying, but this time not from sadness. Rather, from a broken heart. 

He knew it was just a culmination of his emotions and physical weakness catching up to him. But for the moment, he let himself cry. It hurt him to lose not only his brother, but Antonio, too. It hurt that he still had to pretend everything was normal when it really wasn't. Lovino hated pretending; it felt like he was lying to everyone.

Exhaustion took over Lovino's body and he fell asleep. He dreamed about Antonio again, but this time in a happier light. 

The dream began with him in a field of sunflowers. The sun was shining so warm, Lovino could feel it tanning his subconscious skin. He heard Antonio's voice call out to him and Lovino navigated his way around the sunflowers and over to a large farmhouse in the countryside. 

Antonio was sitting on a porch swing, sipping a drink that looked like milk and watching Lovino come up the front porch steps. Lovino saw himself sit down next to Antonio and sip his own glass.

Lovino woke up feeling refreshed, energized, and very hungry. Now that he wasn't wallowing in depression, he felt he should properly eat something. He headed downstairs to find Grandpa making dinner, to which Lovino was thankful for.

Grandpa spotted him. "You're finally awake!"

"What do you mean, 'finally'?" Lovino sat at the kitchen counter.

"You came home from your appointment yesterday and went to bed. It's currently six thirty the next day. You slept for over twenty-four hours."

Lovino wasn't really surprised. He felt rested and awake, much more like himself.

Grandpa inhaled sharply and clutched his chest. Lovino rushed over to him, but Grandpa collapsed on the floor. 

Something was very wrong, so Lovino pulled out his phone and dialed nine-one-one, explained the situation, and gave his address. He was notified that paramedics would be there in ten minutes.

Ten minutes felt like a long time when the person you're holding is deteriorating on the kitchen floor. 

"Lovino," Grandpa caught his attention. "In my bedroom, you'll find a safe in the panel behind the closet. In that are instructions as to what to do with my things once I pass."

"Don't say that! I just lost Feliciano. Don't you dare die on me, too." Grandpa was always there as his rock. Without his support, Lovino wasn't sure how long his castle would stand.

"Hey," Grandpa whispered, "it's okay. It's time for me to go. You've become a wonderful young man, Lovino. My son would be the proudest of you. Nii forte, Lovino."

Lovino felt his grandfather grow cold. "Grandpa? Grandpa!" He started panicking. "Grandpa, you have to wake up! Please!" He choked out sobs. "I'm not strong enough."

The paramedics arrived and knocked on the door. "We were called for an emergency!"

Lovino went to the door and told them what happened. The paramedics gave their condolences and brought a gurney in to help take Grandpa's body out of the house.

"Are you sure you'll be okay here on your own?" A paramedic asked Lovino.

"I'll be fine."

But upon closing the door and hearing the paramedics leave, Lovino collapsed in the foyer, and screamed.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Lovino couldn't believe it. Was this payback for not loving his family enough? Was Lovino a bad person? Why did this keep happening to him?

Feeling angry, he went to his grandfather's room and searched for that panel. Grandpa had said it was a panel in the closet, so Lovino opened the closet and pushed the clothes aside. Sure enough, there was a panel there. Lovino had never been in Grandpa's room before, let alone his closet, so he wouldn't have known any differently about this panel had Grandpa not said anything.

He went back to find a screwdriver because the panel was bolted on. When he found one, he used all of his might to turn each screw until they fell out onto the carpet.

The panel came off and Lovino walked inside. He found the safe his grandfather had told him about and brought it out to place on the table. It wasn't any bit heavy, so Lovino was able to carry it with ease. 

The key was already inside the lock. Lovino opened up the box to find a few papers and a credit card. He sifted through the papers, one-by-one.

The first one was a letter that read, "Dear grandson, if you are reading this, it means that I have passed away at an unlikely time. I am sorry to leave you at your most vulnerable, but that is how God's graces would have it.

"Inside this box you will find my will as well as instructions of what to do with my body, should I pass away before you. I hate to be vague, but everything is explained in the following letters.

"Whatever happens, don't forget that you are loved. Perhaps my love has run out of time, but you will find someone out there that loves you and accepts everything about you. 

"Peace be with you. Love, Grandpa Rome."

The other letters Lovino could find had the instructions Lovino was looking for. In the will, Feliciano was supposed to get the cookbooks and paintings hanging around the house. Lovino, however, was supposed to get a card. He supposed that was the card in the box. The letter said "Take this card to the bank and have them check the balance for you. Whatever is left in there is yours to put toward a new house after you sell this one."

As for the body, it was to be buried with one of the boys if they had an untimely death like Grandpa.

Lovino had to go through all of the funeral preparations by himself, deciding things like the type of casket, the inside lining, the flowers, the obituary, and the order of service. He never thought there would be so many minute details for a funeral, but some people wanted specific things, he supposed.

The next thing on his agenda was to take that card to the bank and find out what was on it. He walked into the bank and a teller called him to the counter.

"How can I help you, sir."

"Hi, my grandfather just passed away and I'm supposed to inherit whatever is attached to this card. Here's my I.D. as well, if you need it."

The teller typed on her computer and asked, "would you like a print-out of your balance?"

"That would be nice, yes."

She handed him the card and a slip of paper. Lovino took one look at it and couldn't believe it. There was over six hundred thousand dollars connected to that card. "Don't you think you went a little overboard there, Grandpa?" He asked no one as he walked out of the bank. Then his shoes caught on the sidewalk and he tripped. He supposed it was his Grandpa telling him no.

Not long after was the funeral. Lovino had not wanted a grand funeral like Feliciano's was, so he just had a graveside funeral with some of Grandpa's closest acquaintances. They all said their condolences when they left their flowers at the grave.

Lovino walked back into a dark house, which reflected how he felt. He was in a dark place, mentally, feeling like the ghosts of his family were haunting him.

The house was unusually cold, which wasn't surprising as the warmth and laughter that radiated from this house was replaced with desolation and despair.

Lovino felt empty. It was a feeling he had grown used to recently, but it gave him a sense of hopelessness.

He felt numb. The concept of death didn't scare him anymore. He used to lay awake at night, fearing that he would die, but now he welcomed it. So much so, that he could take his own life.

Why not, right? The only people that had ever loved him were all gone, so Lovino had nothing to live for anymore. He'd rather be with them in heaven than live through this hell without them.

Oh the sweet release of death is all he thought about as he walked his way to the kitchen and grabbed a knife.  _ What a sad way for someone to die, _ he thought.  _ Ending their own life like a coward.  _ But what other option did he have? He couldn't just return to work and think everything was normal.

As he sat on the kitchen floor, he took one last look at his tomato garden. It looked desolate in this dim, dusk lighting. The tomatoes no longer seemed vibrant and full of life.

He put the knife to his throat, thoughts racing through his head about anyone that would miss him. He thought about the people at church, how they would grieve him but eventually move on. Lovino thought about his fellow librarians, how they never truly understood him.

Lovino counted down the seconds until he committed the action. When he got to one, he heard a knock on his door.

Distracted from his thoughts of imminent death, Lovino trudged over and opened the door to find-

"What are you doing here?" He asked the man.

Antonio walked past him and invited himself in. He stood in the foyer, and without saying a word, held his arms out.

Lovino closed the door and turned on the lamp next to them. "I told you didn't I? I'm fine. I don't need you. Also, why are you here? How did you find my house?"

Antonio stood his ground. "I heard your grandfather passed away. I came to check on you."

"You could have done that from a distance."

"But you don't want that, do you?"

Lovino hated that Antonio could read right through him. He wanted nothing more than to hug Antonio and put his worries and past behind him, but he couldn't give himself over that easily. "What does it matter to you?"

"Lovino, I've dealt with a lot of depressed patients and many of them, when they lose their rock of assurance, they begin to crumble into despair. If they go unchecked, they could do a number of things, like attempt suicide."

Lovino gasped at how Antonio had just caught him red-handed. "How did you know?"

"I actually didn't, but if that describes you, then that's why I came. You need a new rock, Lovino. You can't do this on your own. If you say you can, you're just lying to yourself."

"What I need is to get out of here. Out of this house, this city, away from all this death and turmoil in my life." He looked up at Antonio. "Can you do that for me?"

"Absolutely! We can sell this house and move somewhere far away. I can start a new office in another town. You could plant your own garden, bigger than the one here. I was thinking of moving away one day, myself."

"Alright," Lovino decided. "I can work with a realtor in the morning and get this house on the market. We've kept up with repairs on it, so it should sell quickly."

Antonio smiled, happy that things were looking up for Lovino.

"Hey Antonio?"

"Yes?"

Lovino's cheeks dusted pink. "I'll take that hug now."

He buried himself in Antonio's chest, taking in the sweet scent of cinnamon. Oh, how he has longed for this moment: to simply hug Antonio and be told that all of his worries will go away. 

With Antonio's proposal to move away, there was a glimmer of hope for Lovino. A promise that although he had surrounded himself with darkness, there was light at the end of the tunnel. Lovino knew that one day, someday, everything would be okay.


	10. Epilogue

(One year later)

Lovino wiped his forehead with his sleeve. The southern sun was particularly hot today, and Lovino could feel it tanning his skin. 

He had been working on his tomato section for a few hours, stopping only to get some water before continuing.

He had moved here several months ago after selling his grandfather's house. Lovino had used the rest of that inheritance money to buy a nice house in the country that had several acres of backyard for him to cultivate and turn into a large garden. 

He ran his own small business as a tomato farmer, trading tomatoes with the neighbors who would give him corn and wheat in return. Of course, he kept some tomatoes for himself. On the weekends, the whole neighborhood would host a farmer's market to people in the nearby city, allowing them to buy locally grown, organic vegetables. It was quite a trend among city folk. People loved Lovino's tomatoes.

Lovino had been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear his name being called. He heard it again and looked to the house to see Antonio waving him down, telling him to go inside for a break.

"Busy day today?" Asked Antonio, handing Lovino a drink.

He took a sip through the metal straw. "The aphids are back. I thought I got rid of them months ago."

"I'm sure you'll be able to clear your tomatoes soon. Sit down! You've been working all day." Antonio cleared a spot for him on the porch swing.

"Thanks," Lovino said, sitting next to Antonio. "What is this, by the way. It tastes like cinnamon milk."

"It's called horchata. I learned how to make it while in Barcelona. It's basically rice milk with cinnamon and sugar in it, so you weren't wrong saying it tasted like cinnamon milk."

"It tastes familiar. I think I had this a really long time ago before my parents died. My mom was half Spanish so I think she let me try some once."

"I wouldn't be surprised. It's common in Spanish cuisine, but more so in Latin American cuisine. Buying horchata in Mexico is no different from buying a snow cone here in the U.S."

Lovino downed the entire glass, setting it on the table near him and leaning back against Antonio. "Thank you."

Antonio looked down at him. "For what?"

"You gave me a reason to keep living. This life I've created with you is my light at the end of the tunnel. I'm glad I met you all those months ago."

He could feel Antonio laugh. It sounded as beautiful as a bumblebee. "This is only the beginning, Lovino. I can't promise that we won't have trial and turmoil ahead of us. But I can promise that I'll never leave you. We're in this together."

_ Together.  _ That sounded nice. Lovino relaxed against Antonio's chest and began drifting off to sleep. All that work in the sun made him tired.

"Hey Lovino?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too." It was a message to not just Antonio, but to everyone that had ever loved him. To Feliciano, Grandpa, his mom and dad. Anyone that has ever cared for him or wanted the best for him. He owed them this.

_ Stay strong,  _ his grandfather had said. Lovino was at his strongest right at this moment. He had found someone that truly loved him, just like Grandpa had wanted.

_ Stay happy.  _ His brother's words rang through his ears and this time, they didn't evoke tears or weakness. Lovino had finally found true happiness. 

He wanted to live a life his family would be proud of, and little did he know, they were.


	11. Thanks and Trivia

THANK YOU

To everyone that has read this story, I know it was an emotional rollercoaster, but thank you for sticking it out. You made it to the end!

I would also like to thank E and Anna for some of these headcanons. E, especially, was the thought behind this whole story. 

And lastly, but certainly not least, I would like to thank my friend Yes for the title. 

I love all of you and thank you for helping me.

TRIVIA

  1. Antonio was attracted to Lovino when they first met. In fact, Lovino is the only one to call him "Antonio" and not "Dr. Carriedo". Antonio, from the beginning, wanted a deeper relationship with Lovino.
  2. Lovino, because of anxiety, is really jumpy, so that's why when Feliciano popped up behind him in Walmart, Lovino screamed.
  3. The blond man Lovino ran into was actually Ludwig, aka, Germany.
  4. Most stories have Ludwig and Feliciano getting together and Lovino getting mad about it, but I wanted to show more depth to Feliciano's character than just simply having a boyfriend, and to Lovino's character than just being angry.
  5. Ludwig makes a comment to Lovino, "If I was a car, you'd be in a lot worse pain." A few chapters later, Feliciano got hit by a car
  6. I wasn't planning on killing off Feliciano, but I wanted Lovino to get to his lowest point to get away from the town he was living in. If he had simply moved away, no one would understand why.
  7. Grandpa Rome died of a heart attack at age 83. This is why he wasn't afraid of dying.
  8. All of the events that happened in this story: the therapist, the suicidal thoughts, the depression, the lack of proper nutrition, etc. are all common in someone dealing with a mental illness. 
  9. Lovino still has a mental illness, even while with Antonio. His mental illness is paranoia and chronic anxiety.
  10. The dreams! In the first dream, we see Lovino walking toward Antonio and then Antonio turning away. This was reflected in Antonio hearing about the parent's deaths, being the only witness to Feliciano's incident, answering Lovino's call at 2:30 at night, and appearing at Feliciano's funeral and graveside. Antonio turned away from Lovino when he saw how beaten and down Lovino was, even though Lovino had put the suggestion out there that they begin dating.
  11. In the other dream, I had Lovino surrounded by sunflowers. Sunflowers are a sign in your dream that you're reaching a happy point in your life. I then showed the large farmhouse and Antonio. That is the house Lovino bought to live in with Antonio, and it was showing that one day Lovino would move in with Antonio and his life would be at peace.




End file.
